


A sing-songy Stucky fic

by TheMasterOfDisaster



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Feels, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 08:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12955191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMasterOfDisaster/pseuds/TheMasterOfDisaster
Summary: Steve likes to sing, but when it comes to performing, he is a nervous wreck. So its only fitting that he has to substitute someone for a karaoke duet with this "Bucky" guy who he has never met before.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

Everything was a golden blur. Steve blinked a couple of times before picking his head back up from the keyboard. The sun was peeping out from behind the building across of Steve's window, completely drowning out his already murky vision. How did this happen again? Falling asleep while trying to to write his "music" in the afternoon really shouldn't be this regular of an occurrence, Steve's back certainly agrees as well, he thinks to himself as a short burst of pain shoots up his spine.

Trying to stand up from the bent-over-crouch he was in for the past hour makes Steve's entire body ache, as though his bones are about to snap by simply retreating back to their natural position. Steve looks at his watch, 7:13 pm, he has forty five minutes to get "un-slept" for the night out.

Steve presses the keyboard a couple times just in case he somehow gets the world-changing epiphany he desperately needs after hearing a string of random notes, and then continues on with his mental to-do-list.

First, Steve suffers through his (late) daily workout routine. He hates it but his body is basically the only thing he has going for him right now, he needs to highlight that today especially. Building muscle needs hard work, whether Steve likes it or not (a sculpted frame doesn't come from some pseudoscience-y bottle of serum, obviously).

***

Now that he's all healthy and moments away from a heart attack, Steve looks into his wardrobe... Yeah, no. Steve shuts the door disappointingly after realising that the best stuff in his possession is already draped over him, and now covered in a thin layer of sweat... Great. The tight blue shirt and brown jeans work too well to simply give up, he just slaps some deodorant on and tries not to think about it too much.

***

Steve walks out of his apartment at 7:41 and texts nat:

Steve: I'll be there at 8

Natasha: See? Its not that hard to do something fun for once

Steve: oh I still hate you for making me do this, don't you worry

Natasha: Will you still hate me if you get laid tonight?

Steve: wait, is the only reason you invited me to find another poor guy to hook me up with? I swear if you pull this again, I'm going to nuke your house!

Natasha: You're talking about it as though it happened daily

Steve: oh... weekly, my bad

Natasha: shut up and just get your ass here you paranoid idiot

Steve puts his phone away, still trying desperately to push his ever-increasing sense of anxiety down somewhere into the back of his mind in an attempt to at least have the possibility of enjoying this night like everyone else will. The sun is still above the horizon but that's not stopping it from painting the whole world into a polaroid, with every step Steve sees glimpses of the melting turquoise sky from behind the houses enclosing the street from it's sides. The city is strangely calm for a Friday night like this.

He lets himself get lost in silhouettes of buildings in the distance, serving as a dark blocky contrast to the pattern of fading blues, purples and the occasional blurred out streaks of red and pink in the sky. The absence of buzzing cars in the streets renders the air still and pleasant, similar to a village somewhere in the countryside where evenings like this aren't looked at as marvels but as a simple everyday occurrences. Minutes of staring above himself while walking in a rhythmic pace makes Steve finally calm down and fall into that child-like state of wonder he often finds himself in while writing. Steve begins paying attention to his echoey footsteps and realises that his ones aren't the only ones here, now joined by another string of faint isolated thumps to the pavement he instinctively turns around to see the source of the noise.

A young bulky man with brown hair covering his face is walking in the same direction as Steve a couple meters behind him. He doesn't think too much of the man and rather speeds up to reach Nat's house before getting himself into another one of his melancholic "awestruck" episodes.

***

Steve reaches the house a little before 8, its a humble looking structure that sticks out quite a bit as opposed to the rest of the street, which are clean, wealthy enough looking buildings. He can already hear the dull, pulsing sound of blown-out dance music breaking its way through the walls of the small two-storey shack combined with random cheers coming from the back garden out into the once calm neighbourhood. As Steve walks closer, he notices outlines of limbs swaying out of a mangled up blob through the flickering light inside one of the windows.

*Oh what the hell? How many people is inside of there?*

Steve immediately begins reconsidering going in, his social anxiety boiling his brain the way it always does. He takes a deep breath, making one part of his brain battle the other to distract both of them from the fact that he's hastily walking in without thinking another second.

The moment he closes the front door, it feels as though he is going both deaf and blind at the same time. The volume is seemingly twice as loud as it should be physically possible, giving Steve's brain a mild concussion with every single beat in the process. The lights are flashy enough to give him an epileptic seizure and the amount of people he never met before tripping over themselves is making Steve want to find Nat as quickly as possible.

After stumbling through an ocean of hypnotised humans all stuck in the same pattern of body movement and out-of-sync blinking, Steve finally reaches the red head who is responsible for all this.

"Steve, I knew you were gonna make it!"  
Nat exclaims, strangely eyeing a couple of girls who were all giggling to themselves trying to pretend as though they weren't looking at Steve and Nat just a few seconds ago.

"Yeah, it seems... Cozy in here."  
Steve sniggers as a girl nonchalantly walks straight into him.

"Oh don't be so melodramatic!... Wait I know that disappointed look you've got going on. It's different to the normal one, this is the *I'm-weirded-out-because-I-had-my-senses-titillated-and-now-they're-not-anymore* look. Are you after having one of your nature fetish fantasies again?"

"Nat, how many times do I have to tell you? It's not a fetish, it's a deep feel... You know what? I've got a boner for things that make me sad but joyful at the same time. Happy?"

A sincere smile plasters itself over Natasha's face.  
"Don't let me stop you from doing shit like that." She sniggers "Seriously I'm just joking, I love when you get all poetic just by walking through a city or something. The only thing I can think about at a time is how hungry I am, or how hungry my cat, is or how hungry me and my cat will be if I don't buy anything."

Steve smiles and immediately feels awkward for making Nat have to talk to him like a proud mum.

"You wanna dance?"  
Nat asks after a few seconds.

"No not really, go ahead, I'll just stay here and maybe get a kick out of all these people failing to do basic humanly functions."

Nat looks at him funny, then her eyes flicker somewhere behind Steve just to come back to him and give a nod of pretend-solemn approval. She leaves and Steve quickly looks behind his back trying to find what Nat was staring at. It's only the same group of girls from before, less giggly and stalkery this time around.

Steve leans against the wall not before making sure there isn't any undesirable moisture covering it and tries to look as pleased as possible. After a few minutes of nothing, someone walks up to him. It's one of the girls who are starting to freak him out a bit now.

"Umm... Hello."  
Steve manages trying to sound as confident as possible.

"H-hi..."  
...  
...  
...

Well... This seems like a way to spend an eternity.

"So, how are you enjoying the party?"  
Steve smiles.

"Good."  
...  
...  
...

Are you fucking kidding me-

"Natasha said that you can sing."  
The brunette finally blurts out. Although Steve would have now preferred for her to not say anything... Ever.

That sneaky little shit Natasha, she wants me to perform tonight. That's why I'm here. Yeah, I'm totally gonna spam her with some fucked up porno category later on for this.

"Umm... I mean, I guess... Sort of."  
Steve mumbles, too busy being distracted by the ever growing feeling of queasiness in his brain, to act on top of things.

"Yeah? You think you could show me and the rest of us, later on when the karaoke tracks come up?"

No

What the fuck does she think I am?

No

"Uh... I'm not really feeling well tonight so I'm probably gonna pass. Sorry"

"Yeah, Natasha said that you'd pussy out. Thanks for nothing."  
She calmly walks off.

Good thing Steve has enough self control to not let himself get psyched up like this, but he does feel kinda bad for disappointing her, even if she's just a stranger.

He continues wandering through the ocean of swaying bodies, all oblivious to what they are actually dancing to.

They're having fun. This is what fun looks like. Too busy to pay attention but too relaxed to stop feeling. All of these people, as zoned out as they might seem, know exactly what they are doing. Feet shuffling, heads bopping up and down, all while a lazy smile occupies their face, sometimes mouthing some of the lyrics they remember. They are all enjoying themselves, and Steve is the only one who isn't.

After stepping into what he hopes is a puddle of beer, he begins to reconsider the girls offer. He likes singing... but what if he actually sounds horrible?... Who cares? The people here obviously don't care about perfection, they probably know how terrifying it has to be up on stage... but what if someone here knows him and will use this moment against him later?... Oh shut up, you paranoid prick. Nobody cares enough about you to hate you that much... but- He stumbles into someone.

He expects for the guy to walk off as though nothing had happened, but to his surprise, the man turns around to apologise, Steve immediately recognises something about him. The long brown hair, the light stubble, the bulky frame.

It's the guy who walked behind him on the way here.

"Oh no, I'm sorry." The man hastily responds in a higher pitch than Steve would have expected.

"What? No, it's fine." Steve chuckles.

He turns around as if to walk away but swiftly rotates back to grab the guy's attention again.

"I'm.. sorry to bother you... But umm... you don't seem like the type of person that would come to a place like this." He really doesn't, the man is quite fit (wearing a new pair of jeans from the looks of it), he has a strong jaw defined by a blanket of well maintained stubble and a pleasant blue shade fills his eyes. This guy looks too good for this party, he must have something to do with the DJ or something.

"Umm, I don't really know how to respond to that. I'm here to meet up with a friend, but he left a while back for... reasons. So now I'm here, looking a bit snobbish, I guess."

"No I didn't mean that, you just look a bit out of place here with your clean clothes and... Not jamming out with everyone else." Steve is desperately trying to remember why he opened his mouth in the first place now.

"Oh." The guy smiles. "I mean, you are also wearing clean clothes and aren't bashing your brains out with everyone else." The guy looks amused now, Steve is making himself look like an idiot again.

"I'm sorry, I honestly don't know why I'm even bothering you right now. I'm going anyway so... Enjoy your stay." Steve just needs to go and try to not turn explode with embarrassment before getting back home.

"Wait!" Steve hears from behind his back when he turns around. "The reason I'm here is because I'm performing tonight... And the guy who left was meant to sing on stage with me. Would you by any chance know anyone who would be up for this." Steve feels dozens of emotions flood through his brain. The music becomes muffled and the lights around them seem to keep the two to themselves, as if to help Steve keep himself from dropping to the ground.

Umm... No?... Yes?...  
This isn't just about you anymore Steve, this guy is in trouble and you can help him...  
But I'm not good enough to go on stage and somehow not drag both of us down together.  
Oh shut up, Steve. Just say yes.  
No  
Yes...  
No  
"YES!"

"You do know someone?" The man asks "Well... I could do- try it." Steve is aware of every single move the guy is making right now. "Are you sure? I mean, its a karaoke duo so its nothing too important, but you still might be too scared to go up there."

"No, I'm fine. I can do it, if your okay with it, though don't expect anything too amazing. I wouldn't call myself a professional."

The guy looks at Steve, confused almost. "Dude, you do realise its a karaoke night, half of the people here don't properly hear anymore." The guy laughs and for the first time Steve realises that this guy is just like him, Steve was too busy panicking to notice that he's just a person who likes singing, just like Steve.

"Anyway, I'm Bucky." Bucky holds his hand out. "Steve" Steve grips it and lightly shakes it.

"So, we should probably talk through what we're actually doing, right?" Bucky smiles and Steve tries to not think about what's going to happen in a half-hour's time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes at the end.

Chapter 2.

Bucky chuckles nervously.   
They both come to the same conclusion after a few minutes of scrolling through the karaoke playlist: "The person who picked these must have suffered a brain aneurism and then randomly spazzed over the keyboard to make these choices this shitty." 

...Steve said it jokingly, but Bucky nodded in agreement without letting go of that firm stink-eye he was giving the monitor... Steve found this way too amusing but decided not to mention it, just in case Bucky got offended.

"Okay, but seriously... What the fuck are we gonna sing? Do you even know any of these?"   
Bucky turns to Steve, his eyes not too serious, but still increasingly desperate for a tangible answer.  
"I mean, what genre would you prefer?" Steve responds. Bucky seems to tense up immediately at this, his shoulders shift upward and his neck stiffens for a brief moment before he breaks into an uncontrollable sort of smile that he seemingly doesn't want to bare right now. His eyes flash Steve an embarrassed blue stare before shooting back towards the monitor, still unable to fade the grin. He finally mumbles: "I kinda like pop okay"   
Bucky doesn't look back at Steve as though he is after telling him a life-changing secret that will make Steve revolt against him. 

Steve can't help but smile-  
*this guy is honestly kind of adorable*

"That's fine, I suppose we could perform something along those lines."   
Bucky tenses up for a split second before letting himself ease back into the pleasant expression that Steve now assumes to be his resting position.

"People like you always freak out when they hear the term 'pop-music', its like poison to most music-goers!" Bucky explains while reading over the playlist for what must be the hundredth time.   
"I mean, I like pop too... Its not my favorite but a lot of my favourite albums could be considered as some off-brand type of pop." 

Bucky smiles for a brief moment before scrolling down the playlist;

"Okay... so I suppose we could go for an older 2000's hit, or something?" 

Bucky puts the idea forward without really expecting an answer.

"You know what? Let's try that." 

Steve begins to notice how comfortable he feels around this guy, this never happens around people he only just met but Bucky comes off as very transparent with everything which gives Steve a good feeling about him-a feeling he hopes that Bucky reciprocates.

Steve moves towards the monitor, trying to look for something that Bucky somehow hadn't found yet. After a minute or two, Steve feels Bucky's steady breath passively brush the side of his face. His eyes immediately dart towards Bucky to find him standing way closer than he expected, firmly staring at the screen while huddling his hair subconsciously behind his ear. 

*Bucky looks weird* Steve thinks to himself.

Right now he is staring with such daunting vigor that he might as well be about to shoot someone in the head, but only a few moments ago his grin almost drained all the shadows out of the room. Steve found himself rewinding back to the image of Bucky laughing as though it was some secret code to crack, there was something about it. Bucky, even from behind the wildly pronounced jawline and slightly overgrown stubble looked like a young kid when he smiled... that's it. The sort of care-free expression, usually worn by close friends after finally easing into a frivolous conversation, the expression that Steve feels undeserved to be directed at him by a guy as sound as him. Despite this, Steve craves to see the fervor rise back onto his face again instead of the semi-distressed look which he is studying right now. 

Steve quickly looks back at the options, trying to find something to finally ease the room's tension. A couple moments pass, Steve -repeatedly taking short glimpses of Bucky while trying not to make them too obvious - jumps as Bucky's face suddenly bursts into an excited whisper; 

"what about that one?" 

***

Steve felt sick. Bucky is after setting the instrumental onto the rotation, in a few minutes he'll be up there singing a song he barely knows with a stranger who he feels oddly attached to. 

*This feels more important than it really is... Bucky is just a random guy who thinks I enjoy this as much as he seemingly does. I'm nothing substantial to him, just a replacement. If I screw up, there isn't much either of us will lose. He'll be slightly annoyed at an overgrown idjit whom he met minutes prior and I'll have a cringe-inducing memory to look back on. Its not a big deal.*

This makes Steve feel a bit more at ease (as harsh as it might sound), not enough to stop his legs from feeling like glue though, but at least it puts things into perspective. 

Bucky jumps back down towards Steve, his hair covering his smile as he does so. 

"Hey, you're good, you don't have to worry. As long as you remember the words, you'll be fine." 

Steve glances at Bucky. He feels like an idiot. He's freaking himself out over nothing, its a karaoke performance for crying out loud.

"Thanks, although don't be too mad if I fuck up or sound awful. I've never sang like this before... So I might be horrible."  
Bucky gives a short laugh.  
"Are you kidding? You don't have to get worked up about this. if it makes you feel better, my first performance a couple years ago ended by me fainting onstage, half way through the song. You can't really beat that, can you?"   
They both start laughing.

The song comes up, Bucky winks at Steve as he walks up towards the small stage in the middle of a murky dark-blue mess which Steve assumes to be people. His heart feels like a furnace about to blow up and his head feels as though all the thoughts swirling inside of it just turned into flame, slowly melting him from the inside. No matter how many little things he tries to calms himself down with, they won't stop this dull stiffness he feels through his whole existence right now. 

Bucky notices Steve's dead expression but simply grabs his arm to pull him on stage. This forces Steve's brain to quickly reboot, giving him a short boost of energy as everything he has been scared of in the past couple moments rattles through his memory like film with the fast forward button pressed down. He feels distant from all of it now though, seeing Bucky's reassuring glare beside him jolts up a surge of hope. Steve is glad he's doing this, he's glad that Bucky is there, he's glad that he's finally doing this after all this time, terrified, but glad.

The music starts playing. Steve is calmly looking into the deep blur in front of him, for a brief moment trying to make out Nat's face. He looks over at Bucky who seems quite relaxed as he keeps his eyes on the lyrics screen, awaiting the queue for the vocals to start. 

As the lyrics appear on the monitor above him, empty, his pulse seems to flutter, everything feels warm. Steve breathes in and holds the microphone closer to his lips. There are only split seconds before he has to shout the opening lines out but time has slowed down to a painful crawl, making him aware of every single little movement in his surroundings, the uninterested audience, Bucky, his shaking hands, everything.

Steve closes his eyes as he finally let's his voice out after what seemed like millennia.

Those genius words.

That genius melody.

Accompanied by Bucky's surprisingly deep voice.

"BYE BYE BYE, BYE BYE!"

They seamlessly transition into the verse, Steve is relieved at how easy this feels- compared to a few seconds ago.

"I loved you endlessly, when you weren't there for me."

As they harmonize their way towards the chorus, Steve feels a few of the heads in front of him turn- a horrible feeling... But maybe a good sign.

"I wanna see you out that door, baby, bye bye bye."

"Don't wanna be a fool for you."

A few people start bopping their heads playfully.

"I just wanna tell you that I had enough."

A lot of people have their attention now.

"It might sound crazy but it ain't no lie baby, bye bye bye!"

***

After the instruments cease, most people in the audience clap and laugh in a way that Steve doesn't know how to feel about, Bucky seems pleased though. They both jump down from the small ledge and Bucky can't stop thanking Steve.  
"Holy hell, you don't realise just how much I appreciate this. You were really good... A bit shaky at the beginning but considering how freaked out you were it was definitely better than anyone would have expected."

Steve feels numb. After swearing to himself that he will mess up somehow, he feels strangely underwhelmed, almost as though his mind can't handle the fact that he actually did something without it raising a giant havoc in his head during the process.

As he turns to tell Bucky how unexpected his voice was to sound like that, Steve sees the familiar bright red hair standing a few feet away from him and Bucky.

Nat speeds towards them with an unreadable expression on her face, when she stops dead in front of the two- staring at them like an angry mother at her kids- Steve and Bucky blandly state in unison:

"We have no fucking idea why we chose that song..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long... There really isn't a reason, I'm just a lazy little shit lol. I assume that nobody will read any more of this fic, which is honestly fine. 
> 
> However, to the people that did read these first chapters (and that one person who kudosed CH.1), thank you... I genuinely didn't expect to have people reading it at all, or liking it for that matter. 
> 
> I started writing this out of boredom without any proper outline or plans for the story, so now having to write something that people will actually read (even if the number is miniscule) feels weirdly exhilarating. 
> 
> Anyway, now because of you fuckers I have to be productive- screw you :)


End file.
